Chapter 25

 

Sara closed the front door and set the candy bowl on the kitchen counter.

“Those last little kids were so cute, weren’t they?” Mom said. She had positioned herself on the sofa where she could see the door. Watching costumed children with their plastic pumpkins collecting treats seemed to brighten her evening.

“Are you warm enough, Mom? I could bring the blanket from my bed if you …”

“I’m fine, Sara. Come sit by me and relax. You’re as jumpy as a black cat.”

Sara worked up a smile. “It’s okay. The doorbell will just—”

It chimed, validating her statement. A fairy, a princess and Batman shouted “trick-or-treat!” when Sara opened the door. She heard her mother giggle in the background as she dropped a small packet of gummy worms in each of their bags.

When the door closed once more, Mom gave Sara a firm stare. “Everything okay, sweetie? You’ve been preoccupied a lot recently.”

“I’m fine, Mom. How about if I make us some cocoa?”

“Where’s Matthew tonight?”

“He said he and Wolfe had something to do.” Sara dumped packets of cocoa mix into two mugs and turned on the burner under the kettle.

“Hm, I wonder what?”

The doorbell rang again, saving Sara from having to make up an impromptu excuse. Matt didn’t tell her anything these days. The fact he’d said he and Wolfe were going somewhere was the most she’d gotten from him in ages. She dispensed more candy and turned toward the whistling kettle.

“Here’s your cocoa. Watch out, it’s really hot.” She set the mug on a magazine on the end table. “Do you need me to help you to the bathroom first?”

“Sara, chill. I’m perfectly capable of getting to the bathroom myself, and I know cocoa is hot.”

Sara ducked her head.

“Oh, honey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.” Mom patted the sofa beside her. “Please sit for a minute. I’m worried about you. I know you haven’t been sleeping well and you’re losing weight.”

Mom tugged at the leg of Sara’s black pants, showing how loose the fabric had become.

“Please tell me what’s wrong.”

Although it was tempting, there was no way she was telling about the argument between Matt and his friends the other day, and really no way she’d tell about the money bag. Her mother had enough worries without this.

“I got a C-minus on a history test yesterday.” It was a D-minus and she’d immediately wadded up the paper and tossed it in the hallway bin at school.

Mom gave a sideways look. “This has been going on longer than that. Honey, if you need help with schoolwork, Matt was pretty good in history, or I can help. If it’s worries over boys or friends, you can talk to me about it.”

Sara shook her head. “It’s okay. I should have studied harder.” The doorbell saved her from a longer explanation.

By nine o’clock the trick-or-treat traffic had stopped and Mom was dozing on the couch. Sara helped her to bed, using the open math book on the table as an excuse to stay up later. Truthfully, she’d been working up the courage to talk to Matt. Not to tell him about the money bag she’d found—since she couldn’t get it back for him, there was no point. But she’d like to know how her brother and his best friend had gotten themselves wrapped up in this bad situation. She wanted to tell him to go to the police and let that bad-tempered older guy take the blame. Surely Matt and Wolfe were not the ones who instigated the robbery.

The Hanson kids and the Cook kids had been so close, back in their old neighborhood. Wolfe and Matt ran around together since they were ten years old, rode their bikes everyplace, while Sara and Crissy Hanson either tagged along with the boys or made up games of their own. All four kids loved going to Wolfe and Crissy’s aunt and uncle’s place a little ways out of town, where there were fruit trees and they were allowed to pick as many cherries as they wanted.

Crissy was the friend she would go to now, the one person who would help her figure out how to shake some sense into their brothers. Crissy, with her long blond hair and the pixie-like glint in her eye—

She cut off the thought. Crissy’s pink bike lying smashed in the road, the news that the ambulance guys couldn’t save her. Five years wasn’t nearly long enough to forget that scene. Five years, and so many changes. The Hanson’s divorce, Wolfe going wild in his high school years, now Mom’s illness and Dad gone. Sara stared at her mother’s favorite picture of Jesus on the wall. Why didn’t you fix it all?

Her vision blurred. Why didn’t someone fix something? Too much had gone wrong. She crossed her arms over the math book on the table, laid her head down and let the tears flow.